


Why

by ArgentSleeper



Series: Episode AUs [13]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Episode: s03e10 Queen of Hearts, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 02:58:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5075140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentSleeper/pseuds/ArgentSleeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Arthur questions the past, Merlin fears for his future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why

**Author's Note:**

> I was using a break to go through and delete some of my gdocs and found this little guy just waiting for a quick edit.
> 
> Part of me wants to write more for this, because poor Merlin desperately needs a hug (the fact the actual episode ended humourously annoys me to no end), but I think that topic deserves its own much longer story. For now it's more of an episode tag/au instead of a full ploty story.

 

 

Arthur kept his head held high and his posture confident as he made his way through the dungeons and past the watch post. It would not do for the guard to suspect his presence was not _quite_ sanctioned by his father.

He held himself back, just for a few moments, and watched the old man from the shadows.  The sorcerer looked utterly defeated, crumpled on the hard stone floor and staring out the window with a wistful glow in his eyes.  Sitting there like that, he didn't look like some evil creature.  Arthur just didn't understand.

Well, that was why he was here after all.

Arthur stepped forward, grasping the bars of the small cell.  The old man -Dragoon the Great, what a stupid name- turned to face him, immediately starting to struggle his way to his feet.  A strange expression passed over his face that Arthur was sure he had misinterpreted.  Surely the sight of his executioner couldn't bring hope to his eyes?

Finally Dragoon was up.  "Well, young Pendragon," he smirked.  "I thought I was going to be allowed to wait until morning before seeing your face again."

Arthur bristled.  Right, he'd nearly forgotten exactly how not innocent the man could be.  "Is it wise to taunt the man who holds your fate in his hands?"

"Ah, but I'm not.  Not unless Uther has decided to embrace magic so he can take on the guise of his son.  Which if that's so then I think we have far bigger problems to deal with than my poor manners."

"Look, old man-". Arthur cut himself off and took a deep breath to calm himself, forcing the air out his nose.  "I need to ask you something.  If you answer honestly, I promise to... to consider speaking to my father about your sentence."

Dragoon raised an eyebrow in an uncanny impression of Gaius.  "To Uther the only sentence for the crime of magic is death.  And for enchanting his beloved son, I'm sure it shall be the worst death he can devise."

"That's the thing that's been bothering me.  I've been thinking about it-"

"You, thinking?"

"-and something doesn't make sense to me." Arthur mercifully ignored the barb.  "You claim you bewitched Guinevere and I to fall in love, and then you were caught in the attempt to place a second enchantment.  So I suppose the question I have for you is why."

The old man snorted.  "What, has your mouth grown so full of honey cakes you've been forced to stuff them in your ears?  I told you-"

"I love Guinevere.  I have for quite a long time now, and she me.  The first poultice was only found a few days ago.  I helped Guinevere search her home and we didn't find one at all.  So tell me: why did you lie?"

Dragoon blinked at him, stupefied.  Arthur supposed he thought no one would question it all too much, but Arthur had never been able to leave well enough alone.  None of this made sense, and he needed to know why.

"Perhaps the poultice was merely an unnecessary action," Dragoon suggested, eyes shifting around in a clear sign of untruthfulness. "How I was to know-"

"You broke into my chambers in the middle of the day to place the second one," Arthur pressed.  "Guinevere had already been sentenced to die, any damage you could do with us had already been done.  There was reason for you to risk it."

For a moment it appeared as if Dragoon was going to lie to him again.  Instead took a step back and squared his bearded jaw.  "Your beloved is safe," he said softly.  "Perhaps you would do best not to question such blessings, however they came about."

Of course that immediately sprouted a dozen questions in Arthur's mind, but he cast aside all of them for the only conclusion he was left with.  “You didn't put the poultice there.  You're lying.” Dragoon didn't answer, simply looked at him with those oddly familiar eyes filled with sadness, or perhaps pity.  Why a condemned sorcerer would pity _him_ he had no idea.  “Answer me!”

“I did not hear a question, sire.” Before Arthur could explode in confused frustration, the sorcerer reached through the bars and placed a gnarled hand on Arthur's arm.  Far from frightening him, the touch was strangely soothing.  “You have your answers, my prince.  Go now.  You get far too little rest as it is.  Tell young Gwen I'm sorry for all she has gone through.”

Arthur knew when he was defeated, though he still burned to know the _why_ of it all.  With a sigh he turned away from the cell, determined to come back early in the morning and question the old man again.

“Oh, and Arthur?”

He paused, thrown off by the use of his given name.

“Don't come to the execution tomorrow.  Please.”

Arthur sighed and found himself turning back to face the sorcerer with an apology forming unbidden on his face.  “I have to, I'm afraid.  As the aggrieved party my father has ordered me to be the one to light the pyre.”

  


* * *

 

 

 

Merlin didn't sleep a wink that night.  He told himself that it was so that he could be prepared for the instant Gaius brought the potion to him.  But no lie could replace the truth.  He was going to die tomorrow.

And Arthur was going to kill him.

It was all of Merlin's worst nightmares rolled into one.  Once, when he was fourteen and his control over his magic made even more unsteady by puberty, he'd stuck his hand in the fire of their hearth.  His mother had found him sobbing on the cottage floor, clutching the blistered appendage to his chest.  When she asked what on earth he'd been thinking, he'd been in too much pain to come up with a lie.

“I wanted to know how much it will hurt to burn to death.”

Now he wished he didn't know.  He wished he hadn't been forced to witness dozens of executions at Arthur's side.  He wished he didn't know that in a few hours he would have to look into Arthur's eyes and watch as the magic lost its hold and his friend realized what he had done.  Who exactly he had lit aflame.

Gaius didn't come.

Arthur said nothing as the guards dragged Merlin from the cell, though his eyes burned with questions.  He wondered what Arthur was thinking.  If he had decided Dragoon was innocent, who was he pointing the finger at now?  Was he wondering where Merlin was?  Had he even noticed Merlin was missing?

Morgana stood on the balcony with Uther, confusion plain on her face.  Of all of them, she would have been the one Merlin would have expected to be questioning him last night.  The poultices were her doing, he was sure.  She had to know he was lying through his teeth, yet she'd done nothing to confront him.  His heart sank to know that with him gone there was no one to stop her and Morgause from killing Arthur and Gwen.  He had failed, even as he gave his life to save them.

Before him stood the pyre, just as menacing as in all his dreams.  The torch with the fire that would end his life sat next to it, crackling as merrily as if it's only purpose was to serve as their nightly campfire.  Arthur reached out and grasped the pole, drawing it from its pit and holding it aloft.  Merlin began to hyperventilate from that sight alone.  He couldn't go through with this.  He had to run.  He had to-

Frantic movement at his side caught his attention.  Gaius was shoving his way heedlessly through the crowd, stopping at the front and patting a bottle clutched in his hands.  The potion.  He'd completed the potion.  Perhaps Merlin was not meant to die this day!

Uther had finished his speech condemning Merlin one last time to the flames.  Merlin seized the opportunity to charge Gaius in a fake fit of fury, then fled into the crowd amidst the confusion.

Heart pounding with terror he downed the potion, praying he'd change back before Arthur found him.  For once in his life luck was on his side and Arthur simply shouted at him and moved on, not even questioning his strange behaviour.

For a moment relief flooded him and he nearly laughed aloud at the mere joy of being _alive._ But then his rush of adrenaline along with his supply of magic finally ran out, and he sank to the ground and knew no more.

 


End file.
